The Lion's Heart
by wrestlefan4
Summary: Chris is taking a break, but he misses that someone so much, that he must cut his break short.  Chris Jericho/Adam Edge Copeland OST


Sometimes I lose my way. Sometimes I get burnt out baby, and I just have to take some time off. I can feel when I start to lose that focus, and I know I've gotta fly again. I'm too driven, too much of a perfectionist, to ever present myself as anything below par, and I won't do it. Not only does it go against the grain that makes up my heart and soul, but it's risky business, staying when your head isn't completely in the game. When you're not all there, you're not going to deliver up to your full potential and you'll hurt yourself, or someone else, and those are both things that Chris Jericho does not aim to do when he gets into that ring, and brings his A game. So you understand, I have to be going.

And I'm gone.

My break isn't really a break at all, in a traditional sense of the word. I'm not on vacation, I'm not a man who is comfortable sitting on my laurels and just taking it easy with a margarita—I go full throttle, I have to be on constantly, I've got to always have some project going—but by all means, you can still bring the party junior! I live a full life and I can't fathom it any other way, and hell, why not? You only get one, as far as I know, so you better make it worth its while and that's what Chris Jericho does.

So on my break, I haven't gotten to fix that faucet that keeps dripping in the kitchen. I didn't sleep in late (Well, maybe a couple times), I didn't catch up on all the gossip with the neighbors, I didn't go on a golf trip. Not me, not never, eeeever. I've been on the road, the way I like it. Once you're used to this life, it's hard to stay in one place for too long. I think the entertainment business is so hardcore and so fast pace in many aspects that it produces this insane kind of ADHD that leaves you unable to sit home for an hour without beginning to rock back and forth like you forgot to take your last hit or something. Then again, maybe that's just me. I wasn't made to be chained, I'm a free, wild, animal and I like the rush of the wind through my mane as I run full speed through an African plain. I am Lion Heart, and sometimes I have to throw my head back and roar.

The thing is, I miss you.

I look at the little calendar on my I-Phone everyday and count the days we've been apart and I wonder when I can stop counting them. I wonder when they're going to stop being red exes in my mind, and start being days full of you and me again. Damn you, making it hard for me to stay away. I love you, what can I say.

I sit on this plane, watching the tops of smoky clouds drift by. It seems like so much of my life has been spent this way, up in the clouds, both literally and figuratively. I mean, I was just this kid from Winnipeg who wanted to be a wrestler and a rock-star and even now as a grown man, living both of those dreams to the fullest, they still feel just like that sometimes—dreams. There are times when I get this weird sense that my life is surreal. I know I worked hard to get where I am, I never stopped, I never gave up, but I still have my moments where I marvel at the fact that it really happened. Then, there's you. You make me feel that same way—mushy, I know. It's gonna be as bad in a minute—worse than Miley Cyrus attempting a cover of Pantera—and may I be struck down by lightening from the enraged fists of the Metal Gods for even _thinking_ of such a thing. I'll just blame you, because I've got it bad for you. You know it! I always have, but as the years pass between us, as we watch each other expand and evolve and become so much more than either of us ever imagined, my love for you grows that much more.

I feel restless. I never meant to come back this soon, but I can't take it anymore. After the show is over, the guitars and amps packed up to be carted to the next venue, I pace my hotel room like a big cat in a cage. That's why I'm on this plane, watching the mists of white and the blue spots in between. I need to feel your fingers, tangled in this shorn mane. I need to feel our bodies pressed tightly together, as the night falls around us. I need to hear your name leave my lips in a growl, and I miss hearing mine inbetween 'oh fuck' and a sweet, love-lust, moan. I need to curl protectively around you, and purr against your ear as we drift to sleep together.

I slip the key in, listen as that click greets my ears so sweetly. I shut the door behind me, quietly leave my things behind, and stride to the bedroom. For a moment I just hang back, concealing myself in the shadows, watching you with eyes aglow. The moonlight falls over your form, the covers pushed down to a tangle around your waist. Your chest rises and falls gently, your hair strewn like gold over your shoulders and tasseled around your face. It's almost a shame to wake you, but I must.

As quietly as I can, I creep onto the bed, crawl over your slumbering, beautiful body and brush my lips to your ear. So quietly, I'm trembling, haven't been this close to you for so long.

_Adam._

It's barely a whisper that ghosts from my mouth as it gently caresses the intoxicant that is the taste of your skin. You murmur sleepily, you roll your head, you open your eyes, the most amazing eyes I have ever seen. My heart beats within the blue of those eyes.

Adam, your Lion's Heart is home.


End file.
